


laugh when it sinks in

by shrooms



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 03:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrooms/pseuds/shrooms
Summary: Grief is an emotion Alex would gladly live without.





	laugh when it sinks in

Her dad dies on a Tuesday.

She knows the day isn’t accurate. They’d waited to tell them; the men in black who sometimes come late at night, whispering secrets Alex and Kara aren’t privy to. They’d needed to be sure.

Jeremiah may have died before, but to Alex, her dad dies on a Tuesday.

The funeral also falls on a Tuesday, coincidentally enough. It’s small; just her mom, Alex, and Kara. Dressed in black.

And it rains. It never rains in Midvale. But it rains today of all days and Alex wants to laugh because the weather fits the somber mood from beginning to end and this is funny somehow.

It falls on the polished wood of her father’s empty coffin, drips down and soaks the dirt and grass while Alex stands with her hands stuffed in her pockets and watches.

The cold air stings and, again, Alex wants to laugh. Sunny Midvale: always sunny, never cold. Not like this.

A choked sob from beside her brings her back, abrupt and sharp, to the reason why they’re here.

Her mother weeps beside her and Alex just stares at the empty coffin with her hands stuffed in her pockets, balled into fists.

Her mind whispers, _‘Reach out. Hold her hand. Cry. Do something.’_ But Alex just stares, because her father is dead and all they have is an empty coffin to mourn.

Her mother cries and Alex wants to cry along with her with how it _aches_, in anguish, in grief, in misery, in her chest and in her throat. Alex should be crying. It’s her _dad_. She loves her dad. Her dad is dead and Alex should be crying.

But she just clenches her jaw tight and stares, some part of her unwilling to cry over empty, polished wood in the shape of a coffin being buried six feet under.

Her dad dies on a Tuesday and Kara stands to her left and attempts to hold her hand. Alex lets her.

Sunny Midvale: always sunny, never cold. Alex is freezing in her soaked sneakers with no gloves and a barely adequate jacket. Midvale is never this cold, but Kara is always warm. Kara holds Alex’s hand like it’s Kara that needs her strength right now, squeezing her fingers around Alex’s clammy palm.

Alex needs to be strong when she’s allowed to break. She is strong when she doesn’t break. It’s a lie. A comforting one, but a lie nonetheless.

Is this what Kara feels? Nothing to bury, but everything to mourn? Wearing this weakness like strength until they can stand with the weight of it on their shoulders?

Alex’s grip on Kara’s hand tightens with the sound of her mom’s grief and this fucking, stupid, empty coffin.

Alex shouldn’t be mourning. Her father should be _alive_ and Alex shouldn’t be mourning. She shouldn’t have to hear her mom grieve. Her father shouldn’t be dead, and Kara shouldn’t be holding her hand like _this_, like Kara’s letting Alex know it’s okay for her to break, because her dad shouldn’t be dead.

He wouldn’t be if Kara—

She stops herself from finishing that thought.

It would be hypocritical of Alex to blame Kara.

After all, hadn’t it been Alex who accepted Kara’s request? Hadn’t it been Alex who said yes to flying, instead of saying no, _knowing_ she should have said _no?_

She follows that line of thinking, instead. Cruel in her desire to hurt something different.

Alex is to blame. It should be Alex they’re burying.

Alex can’t go back in time, but if she could choose again, and choose differently, knowing what she knows now, Alex would have said no. It would’ve made a difference, she’s sure of it. Her father would be alive if Alex had said no. If Alex had been less selfish.

Kara stands to her left, her mother stands to her right, and an empty coffin lays before her. Fear curls around her spine and around her ribs, and steals the breath from her very lungs.

If Alex promises to be less selfish, will she get to keep her remaining family? If Alex promises to be less selfish, will Alex wake up on Wednesday and realize this had all been a bad dream? If Alex promises, promises, promises, will she wake up with her family intact?

_If, if, if._

She has a game on Friday. He’d said he’d try to make it. He told her he loved watching her play. His things are still at home. His clothes, his office, his notes, his books, his tools, all of his things left behind because her dad said he’d be back.

She still has his watch.

Would he come back for that?

She swallows hard.

It’s a stupid thought.

She’s not five years old.

Death is inevitable. There’s no bargain to be made, no bargain she _can_ make that will prevent what’s inescapable. Eventually, Alex will lose. Just as she lost her father, she will lose her mother, and she will lose Kara as well. There’s nothing Alex can do to stop it.

The weight of the realization settles in her gut like a stone and if the day were any heavier and the dirt were softer, she thinks she would sink like one, into the cold, damp Earth where her father’s empty coffin lay.

Her dad died on a Tuesday and they buried an empty coffin.

Midvale is freezing, a rare occurrence, and even with her mother on her right and Kara on her left, Alex is still cold in her wet sneakers and soaked socks and her too thin jacket. But her hand is warm, because Kara’s always warm, and Alex finally cries.


End file.
